


Three

by peachsticks



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsticks/pseuds/peachsticks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is something i did a while back in an attempt to make a little background for a small headcanon i have about Fortune carrying a little knife as an extra weapon aside from her guns.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Three

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i did a while back in an attempt to make a little background for a small headcanon i have about Fortune carrying a little knife as an extra weapon aside from her guns.

The first time a man put his hands on her, she broke one of his fingers.

Her mother gave her a small, sharp dagger that same night and showed her how to attach it to the inside of her boot so it wasn’t detectable - they made a little hook that would hold it in place. It even had an elaborately decorated sheath to protect her lower calf and ankle from the blade.

The second time a man put his hands on her, she left a long scar across his cheekbone. She had only meant to scare him off with a shallow nick, but he’d been drunk and pressed too close to her, causing her dagger to sink deeper into his skin than intended. He’d bellowed and clutched his face, stumbling backwards onto the cold street which allowed her time to escape. She’d returned to her home breathless and walked straight into her mother’s waiting arms.

At this point, Fortune had made a name for herself as a fearless, daring bounty hunter. She had the respect of many across her home nation and the third time a man put his unwanted hands on her did not happen for quite a few years. She had learned to use her charm and a bit of flirtation - always in control of the situation - and had the ability to read people with relative ease.

The third time caught her off-guard.

It was the first night she’d been out since her mother’s murder. She’d been unable to work for a few weeks but finally mustered the energy to force herself to seek a job. Her usual gossip spot was having a busy night and she squeezed past rowdy drunks to the bar, sitting on a high stool and waving at her good friend, the barkeep, to wiggle some rumours out of him. He poured her usual whiskey into a mostly clean glass and regaled her with the most recent news - an embarrassing bar fight here, a weeping, brokenhearted patron there, petty thieves stealing the baker’s bread again.

Two drinks in and a few weeks worth of nonsense gossip out of the way, the barkeep finally leaned in to fill her in on the latest bounty when a rough hand slithered around Fortune’s waist. The glass in front of her was empty and the man attached to the intruding arm interrupted their conversation to order two of the bar’s cheapest ales, saying in a gruff voice about how “the lady looks thirsty” before plopping into the stool next to hers.

Sarah crossed her legs and turned her head to stare coldly at this arrogant fool. _"The lady is fine, thank you,"_ she said after casting a glance to her friend and shaking her head. The stranger’s hand on her waist tightened and he leaned in closer to her, dropping his voice low.

_"I saw ye chattin’ here with the barkeep an’ figured ain’t no harm in offerin’ my company to a pretty lady such as yerself. The crowd ‘ere’s pretty unruly an’ I wouldn’ want some unsavoury drunkard to make a pass at a lady sittin’ all by herself jus’ talkin’ to ‘im."_ He cracks a loose, self-assured smile and finally removes his snake-like arm from around her waist. The barkeep returns and pushes a tall mug towards the strange man, who grabs it immediately and takes a large swig. Fortune catches her friend’s eye and taps the back of her wrist, their signal to pick up their real conversation later. They’ve been interrupted countless times before and he nods as he moves down to the other end of the bar, knowing they will resume their talk after she takes care of this little nuisance.

The man sets his mug down and rests an arm on the bar top, turning back to the bounty hunter. His leery smile returns to his face.

_"Ye sure are pretty. How’d ye like to come’n see my ship? It’s big ‘n I’ve got a nice quiet spot where we could… get to know one ‘nother more."_ That damned hand reaches out and strokes Sarah’s upper right arm. _"Girl like you’s probably never been on a proper ship before, aye?"_

Her left arm slowly slides down to her boot, loosening the dagger from its hilt while she smiles at him, hoping to distract him from her movement by appearing interested. His own grin deepens, sending a warning chill down her spine. This brute definitely is not as friendly as he’s pretending to be.

Keeping her eyes locked with his, she tilts her head and leans forward, sliding her right hand upwards along his thigh. _"Girl like me, you say?"_

Her sudden movement catches his attention and he presses his hand flat against the wooden bar top, his breath catching in his throat as her hand moves higher. His eyes darken and his head drops slightly, angling as if expecting a kiss.

The surprise that shoots across his features elicits a deep laugh from Fortune as she swiftly pulls her dagger free and slams the blade through his hand. The tip digs into the weathered wood and blood begins to seep from the wound.

_"Let me introduce myself since you lack the decency to at least ask a lady her name. Sarah Fortune at your service, bounty hunter of these parts, captain of the large ship you surely saw in port and a woman with very sharp aim."_ Her name carried weight far and wide by this time and a spark of recognition set off in the stranger’s eyes before being extinguished by the realization of his still impaled hand bleeding onto the bar.

That was the last time anyone dared approach her so distastefully.


End file.
